


I'll Fight (For You)

by INeverHadMyInternetPhase



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2012!Phan, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Songfic, Well some fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeverHadMyInternetPhase/pseuds/INeverHadMyInternetPhase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan’s tired of the constant messages asking about him and Phil, tired of fielding questions, and he snaps and takes it out on Phil. But Phil isn’t going to give up on him. (Songfic to 'I'll Fight' by Daughtry, as requested on tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Fight (For You)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Slight angst, occasional swears. Also this fic assumes knowledge of 2012 phan and the accidentally unprivated video (but no details) and it has a happy ending.
> 
> Songfic to ‘I’ll Fight’ by Daughtry, as requested by @mostar1219 on tumblr a while ago and posted again here.
> 
> I don’t own the song and this is fiction, not real events, I cast no aspersions on actual Dan and Phil. Hope you enjoy ^_^

The flow was never-ending.

Over 300 messages in his tumblr inbox, a countless hoard of twitter mentions, floods of emails, and even several texts from those concerned about him in real life, and Dan just couldn’t get away from it all. He curled himself up into a tight ball on his bedcovers, wrapping his arms around his knees, tucking his face into his chest and squeezing his eyes shut. His nails left half-moon crescents imprinted into his calves. A headache throbbed behind his temples, just another constant reminder of the mess of his life.

Nothing was going right.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault - that was the worst part. If there was someone to blame, Dan would have somewhere to direct all this frustration and anger. But, as it was, the only place his emotions had to go were himself. Or those closest to him.

Which, of course, meant Phil.

The arguments had begun quickly, on that first horrifying morning when the whole debacle became known. The floods of views on a video that was meant to be private, the whole host of fans bombarding him with messages and mentions, questions after question after question flooding his inbox. Dan had woken that morning to Phil shaking his shoulder, face even more pale than usual, laptop carefully balanced in one hand.

“Dan, come on. You’re going to need to be awake for this.”

Dan could still remember the flood of horror that had gripped with iron fingers onto his gut, so tight that his head span. He’d slipped against Phil’s side, wrapping himself in the familiar embrace, hiding his head in Phil’s shoulder. Phil, for his part, was trembling under Dan’s touch. The barrage of messages and tweets flaring up from Phil’s laptop felt as if they physically seared into Dan’s head. He could feel the probing questions wriggling around inside his skull.

Phan is real!!

I always knew it, I mean, they weren’t exactly good at hiding it.

Phan confirmed 2k12

Is anyone even surprised at this point?

Dan pressed his face further into Phil’s shoulder, drawing in a careful breath. Everything about him was careful - his tense muscles, scared to unravel, his thought process, slow and sluggish. He didn’t let himself feel. He couldn’t - he knew all too well feelings would lead nowhere good.

After a few minutes, Phil awkwardly cleared his throat. Dan could feel his voice rumbling in his ear. “So. That happened.”

Dan didn’t answer.

“Um. Obviously we can come up with a story.” Phil sounded nervous, his fingers splayed against Dan’s thigh. “Say it was - I don’t know, a prank?”

Dan snorted. As if anyone would believe that. As if anyone would ever believe anything they ever said again. He ducked closer into Phil’s shoulder, his eyes tight shut, anchoring himself in Phil’s familiar smell.

Phil nudged at him. “Dan?”

“Nnhghs.” Dan refused to move, refused to acknowledge Phil. The moment he did, this would become real. It would be real, and he’d have to start handling it.

“Dan,” Phil tried again. “Dan, come on. I can’t do this on my own.”

Dan’s brow furrowed at that. He turned his face just enough to speak, but didn’t lift his head from Phil’s chest. “Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why can’t you just do this by yourself?”

Phil blinked down at him. His grip tightened just a little on Dan’s thigh. “What?”

“I mean,” Dan’s voice tightened a little, “It’s your mess.”

Phil’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Why did you even still have that video?” This time, Dan did sit up. “Why didn’t you delete it?”

“I thought you wanted me to leave it up.”

Dan snorted. “What, so that one day the entire world could see it?!”

“Obviously not.” Phil released a slow breath, but his features were still arranged calmly. That was one of the most irritating things about Phil - even Dan couldn’t read him when he was in a crisis.

Dan huffed, twisting away. “It’s largely academic now, anyway. Everything’s already out there.” He gestured feebly with one hand.

Phil tilted his head. “Right. But we still need a plan.”

Dan shook his head with another bitter snort. There was no point to anything, not in his mind - there was no way to take back what had already happened.

Phil, despite Dan’s silence, had seemed to take his continuing presence for acquiescence. “Right,” he started briskly, “First things first. I’ll take it down, obviously, and then I think we need to make a post. We can say it was a prank we never posted because it seemed - I don’t know, a bit too cruel? Too obvious?”

Dan remained silent. He leaned away from Phil, staring at the opposite wall, studying the white with his fingers clenched into fists.

“Dan?” Phil’s voice was tinged just slightly with impatience. This must be getting to him, too. “Help me type up the post.”

Dan’s brows furrowed and he twisted his head around to shoot Phil a glare. “Why?”

“Why?” Phil blinked at him. “Because - Dan, because you’re as much a part of this as me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Dan-”

“It was your stupid video,” Dan spit with vehemence, “Nothing to do with me.”

Phil stared at him.

“Your mess,” Dan continued ruthlessly. He got to his feet, making for his door. “You clean this up.“

“Dan, don’t you dare -”

Dan was already out of the door.

…

When Phil found him later that day, Dan was on the sofa playing Mario Kart. His eyes were fixed on the screen, the controller tight in his hands, his knuckles white. His fringe was pushed back out of his eyes, which were narrowed in harsh concentration and fixated firmly on the screen.

“I made the post,” Phil announced, a little roughly.

Dan didn’t turn.

There were footsteps, and then the sofa dimpled slightly with the weight of another person. Phil’s warm presence was by his side, but Dan couldn’t feel it. He was cold; alone. His phone was buried on the other side of their flat, and his laptop hadn’t been opened once that day.

“Dan?”

Phil’s voice was gentler, but still edged with tension. A warm hand touched Dan’s arm.

Dan flinched away.

A low sigh filled the unusual space between them. “Dan, come on.”

Dan twitched, his brows digging tighter together. Annoyance flickered through him at Phil’s tone - it was too patient, too long-suffering. Like he was an adult dealing with a child, not talking to an equal partner.

“You have to help me deal with this.”

Once again, Phil’s words irked Dan. He slammed the pause button and snapped his gaze around to Phil, brown eyes flashing. “Oh, I do, do I?”

Phil’s eyes were still calm, if his mouth was a little tight. “You’re being childish.”

“Shut up.”

“Dan.” Phil’s voice grew more stern. “Despite what you said earlier, this isn’t just my mess.”

Dan shot him a dangerous look.

“I mean it.” Phil closed some of the space between them. Dan would have backed away, if he wasn’t already pressed against the arm of the sofa. “We’re in this together. Always. Right?”

Dan’s eyes were hard as he turned away from Phil.

After a short pause, in which the silence weighed heavily down around them, pressing onto their features, Phil cleared his throat. “Right?” His voice sounded uncertain this time.

Dan shoved his controller and onto the floor. He got to his feet.

“Dan, wait.” Phil was up after him in seconds. “Dan -”

“Just leave it,” Dan rasped out, and his tone sounded angrier than he expected.

Predictably, Phil didn’t leave it. He followed Dan all the way into his room, pushing his way in when Dan tried to close the door on him. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“I’m being difficult?!” Dan rounded on him, his eyes sharp and cold.

Phil stared him down calmly. Dan almost wanted to punch him. How could Phil always face problems so easily, with such strength, when Dan was always floundering? Why did Phil get to have it so easy? Why did he never suffer like Dan?

“Dan,” Phil tried again, but this time Dan cut him off.

“No. I’m not talking about this.”

“We have to -”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Dan hissed.

Phil narrowed his eyes. “Have you even been on the internet today?”

“Yes,” Dan growled, “When you woke me up with it. I’m privy to the whole mess. I see it all very clearly, and I am all too well aware that there’s no way to fix it. I get all that. So kindly leave me alone.”

Phil stared at him. “What do you mean, there’s no way to fix it?”

“Everyone’s seen it, Phil!” Dan was shouting, all the tightly-coiled emotions springing out from their place tucked against his chest. “Everyone fucking knows, and no shitty explanation about some - some fucking prank is going to make it better!”

Phil flinched back a step.

“My grandma watches my videos,” Dan continued in a tight voice. Panic was spreading through his limbs. “Fuck, she might have seen it. My mum - my dad - my fucking school teachers, and the cashiers down the shops, everyone…“

“I’m sorry.” Phil’s words dropped like a stone.

Dan almost felt a tug of guilt. Almost. But he shoved it deep down and fixed Phil with a glare. “If you’d deleted the stupid thing years ago, like you should have, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“You wanted me to keep it up.” Phil’s voice was small. “Said you liked watching it still.”

“Then you should have given me the footage.” Dan span on his heel, glaring away from Phil, unable to face him when he looked so much like a kicked puppy. It was too early for this, and his head was pounding, and panic was still flooding through his veins. He was sharper, snappier, full of edges.

“We can still fix it.” Phil’s voice was barely a murmur, but it still pounded in Dan’s ears. “I made the post, just - if we just stick to the story…”

“Stick to the story,” Dan echoed, his tone mocking. “What story, Phil? Who’s going to believe us? You think anyone will care…?”

“It’s the only option we’ve got,” Phil shot back.

Dan still wouldn’t look at him. “It isn’t good enough.”

Silence reigned between them, just for a few moments. Then Phil spoke again. “It will be enough. It has to be.”

Dan huffed out a bitter half-laugh.

“We’ll deal with this,” Phil continued, firm, “And people will forget, and we’ll carry on.”

Dan spoke through pursed lips. “You think it’s that easy?”

“Isn’t it?”

Dan shook his head, clenching his fingers in the tight material of his jeans. His entire body was coiled, tense, with all his pent-up emotion curling and building inside him. He could feel the explosion was imminent. “There’s no way to make this better.”

There was silence in the room, but Phil hadn’t left. Dan could still feel his presence, like they were tethered, bound to each other, a pair even in the midst of a fight.

Eventually, Phil murmured, “It will get better, Dan. You’ll see.”

“Maybe for you,” Dan hissed, spinning on his heel so that Phil could see the full extent of the fire in his eyes, the venom in his tone. “But for me? It’s out there now. It’s never, ever going to go away.”

Phil just shook his head, mouth open, but before he could speak Dan’s phone dinged from under his pillow. He took the distraction easily, grabbing the phone, turning it to face Phil with a gesture full of fury. “See? My grandma. She’s going to know. Everyone’s going to know!”

Phil held his gaze with soft blue eyes. “Is that really such a bad thing?”

Dan was overcome with the urge to punch him again. It was private - no one else had the right to know about Dan’s private life. His private emotions. He levelled a glare at Phil. “Get out.”

Phil’s expression dropped.

“I mean it!” Dan advanced on him. “If you can’t even see why this is so terrible…”

“You aren’t even doing anything to help!”

“Because there’s nothing to do!” Dan cried. “Everything’s gone to shit, and it’s staying that way.”

Phil stared at him.

“Just - just get out.” Dan’s voice brokw, and he turned away, examining his phone. Three missed calls, at least one from his grandma. Endless notifcations. He needed to shut them all off.

Phil didn’t say anything more.

A short while later, the door shut behind him.

…

Days had passed since then, and nothing was any better. Dan curled himself up into a tighter ball, his phone buried somewhere in his bedclothes. He’d been sleeping alone since that day. Phil had been gone a lot, buried in his laptop, and Dan had seen all his messages, replying to their audience, trying to calm everything down.

Dan knew the situation was hopeless. He’d ignored his technology completely; none of his messages had got any replies. He couldn’t even touch the internet without a shudder of revulsion, at knowing his private life was sprawled all over it, out there for everyone to analyse. He couldn’t face trying to sort through the mess. He certainly couldn’t face it alone, but his only other option was Phil, and just then that didn’t feel like a good option at all.

Dan knew, of course he did, that he wasn’t being fair. This wasn’t Phil’s fault - no matter how muc Dan might blame him. Dan didn’t even want to blame him. But without anyone to blame, all of Dan’s intense panic and frustration turned inward, and he was left feeling even more rotten than before. Rotten to the core, empty and exposed. The constant flurry of tweets and messages was already too much. Dan had barely emerged from his room once.

There was a knock at the door. It opened without Dan saying anything, and Phil appeared, his expression tentatively determined. “Hey. I’m cooking.”

“Mmph.”

“Dan.” Phil strode over to the bed and stared him down, tone determined. “I know you’re hungry. C’mon.”

Dan knew that tone. That was Phil’s I’m not taking no for an answer, stop being a baby and come on tone. But he really wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

“If you don’t come out of your improvised blanket fort, I’m going to get the stir fry and I’m coming in there with you.”

Dan still didn’t move.

Phil kept his promise. He disappeared, only to reappear a few minutes later with two precariously-balanced plates, and he climbed directly onto Dan’s bed.

Dan squealed, rolling sideways, kicking at his covers. “Phil! No - what - get off -”

“I warned you,” Phil answered easily, as if his actions were the most natural thing in the world. He plonked down next to Dan, balanced the plates on his pillows, and tugged at the blankets.

“Phil!” Dan shot upright to grab the plates, holding them steady as the bed moved. “You’re going to get sauce all over my sheets!”

“Good.”

“What -”

“Maybe then you’ll come back to my room.” Phil took the opportunity to grab at the blankets while Dan was distracted with the plates, burrowing his way down into Dan’s makeshift blanket fort.

Dan glared at him.

“If you’re going to be a child about this,” Phil answered the look calmly, reaching for a plate, “Then I am going to join you.”

“That isn’t how this works!”

“What, you get to be a child and I don’t?” Phil arched a brow, his mouth twitching upwards into that irritating smirk. “Hardly seems fair.”

Dan spluttered.

“Just eat your damn dinner.” Phil swallowed a mouthful, and even that slight of language gave Dan a glimpse into just how much this was affecting Phil too.

And he flinched.

Maybe he wasn’t being fair. Leaving Phil to deal with everything on his own wasn’t fair. Hiding away from the world was all well and good, but it meant abandoning the person closest to him, and Dan felt his chest tug. This nearness of Phil was something he’d missed, more than even he had realised.

So he begrudgingly grabbed the second plate and slid into place beside Phil.

They talked through shoulder nudges and short careses, leaning into each other as the stir fry was slowly devoured. Phil finished first, and proceeded to flop his head into Dan’s lap, and Dan had to admit that he’d missed this. Phil was closest to him out of anyone, and blocking him out was not something Dan enjoyed.

But equally, every time they were near, Dan was reminded of just how much of the world knew about their closeness now. He closed his eyes with a shudder.

“You’re thinking too much again,” Phil murmured against his legs. “You’re always thinking too much.”

Dan blinked down at him.

“At least, I’m guessing that’s what this is all about.” Phil rolled a little to look into his eyes. “Spending too much time in your head, imagining all the worst scenarios.”

Dan didn’t break eye contact, but the food turned to ash in his mouth.

“It isn’t that bad, Dan,” Phil promised quietly. “Honestly, it isn’t.”

Dan’s heart fluttered in his throat. His voice sounded as a whisper. “How can it not be that bad?”

Phil’s fingers traced paths across his thighs. “It’ll pass.”

Dan flinched away from him. He placed the plate down with shaking hands, pushing Phil away, off his lap, curling back up into himself. He hid his face in his hands. “I can’t just ignore it.”

“Dan -”

“Every time I turn on my phone. Every time I open my laptop. Whenever I see your face, dammit, I just…” Dan shook his head. “I can’t get away from it. And I can’t past it.”

Phil’s voice was gentle. “I know. But it isn’t going to last.”

“How do you know?” Dan peeked at Phil through his fingers, his eyes desperate, his voice trembling.

Phil paused, licked his lips.

Dan broke their gaze and hid back behind his hands. He could feel his eyes burning, his body coiled and trembling. His shoulders shook.

“Dan.” A hand touched his knee. “Dan wait - are you - are you crying?”

“No,” Dan whispered brokenly.

The bed creaked, and then warm arms were wrapped around him, drawing him close, holding him tight. Dan felt himself break. His chest cracked, his fingers slackened, and his cheeks were wet without his permission. He leaned into Phil.

“I promise you,” Phil breathed into his hair, “That it will get better. And until it does, I’m not going anywhere.”

Dan shuddered. He pressed his face into Phil’s chest, let himself be held, breathed in his familiar scent. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the warmth. He tried his best to believe Phil, let himself imagine it - going on with life, acting as if nothing had happened. Getting past this. Moving on.

But everything had changed. His foundations had shifted.

Dan pushed himself away from Phil. He turned his head away. His face felt puffy.

Phil tilted his head, questioning. “Dan?”

“Just.” Dan pulled a and over his face, released a long sigh. “I don’t know, Phil. Just. Leave it be.”

“But you’re sad.”

Dan squeezed his eyes shut. “It isn’t your job to fix me.”

Phil smiled kindly. “There’s nothing to fix.”

Dan flinched at those words, at their closeness, their raw meaning piercing his heart. It was too much. Everything was too much.

Dan flopped face-first into his pillow. “Just leave me alone.”

After several long, silent minutes, Dan felt the bed shift, and Phil’s weight left it.

“I’m going to prove to you,” Phil promised just before he left, “That everything will be ok.”

Dan didn’t look up as he left the room.

…

That night, around 2am, Dan’s phone buzzed. It had to be a text - he’d turned off notifications for everything else, finally cracking at the constant flood of messages. He still hadn’t replied to anything. At this point, he wasn’t sure he could ever face getting on the internet ever again.

Hesitantly, he reached for his phone.

Phil Lester: Stage one of operation Prove To Dan That The World Doesn’t Suck: [insert link]

Dan felt his lips twitch. Hesitantly, he tapped on the link, and opened up a vine of a dreaming dog running into a wall. Despite himself, he released a low chuckle.

Seconds later, another text came through.

Phil Lester: I heard that. Made you hot chocolate. It’s outside your door.

Dan unfolded his long legs from his blankets and moved quietly to the door, opening it just a crack. Sure enough, a mug sat outside his door, still steaming, and the gesture was just so Phil that Dan could feel his chest expanding almost painfuly. He scooped up the mug and managed one text before heading back inside his blankets.

Dan Howell: Thank you. Spork.

Phil Lester: Any time <3

Dan went to sleep with a smile on his face.

…

After that, Phil made it his mission to send Dan something every night. Their days were still spent in awkward silences of half-arguments, Dan still spitting bitter words Phil’s way, and Phil just taking it, too kind, too understanding. Dan could feel the guilt of it eating away at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk things through. The more time he spent around Phil, the more likely it was that Dan would take out his frustration on him, and that wasn’t fair for either of them. He was already hurting Phil enough.

So Dan spent most of the day buried in his room, still hiding from the internet. But every night, there would be a text from Phil, and with it something to make him smile.

Phil Lester: Look, this kitten is having a worse day than you.

Phil Lester: Seen the newest vine? [insert link]

Phil Lester: Frankly, we’ve got it easy. We could be getting murdered to death with a spoon.

With every little gesture, Dan could feel himself melting. His hard facade crumbled, and he even managed a tentative smile when he passed Phil on the way to the bathroom.

Phil practically beamed back.

One morning, just over a week after the debacle that caused all of this, Dan scraped together every scrap of courage he had and opened up his tumblr.

Of course, there were a host of messages. Phil had done his own damage control, but Dan knew it was about time he started to pull his own weight, and he’d already been too unfair by leaving Phil to handle it all. So Dan ignored all the messages and pulled up a new text post, typing out his own version to match up with Phil’s.

They were always stronger together.

Not two seconds after he’d posted it, he got a like and a reblog off Phil, and then his phone buzzed with a text.

Phil Lester: Told you <3

Dan Howell: It isn’t over yet.

Phil Lester: No. But it’s a start.

Dan pushed his phone under his pillow and closed tumblr, instead opening up netflix. He buried himself in TV for as long as he could, hiding away from reality, until his growling stomach informed him that it was time for his next meal.

Dan paused his show and slid out from under his blankets, padding his way into the empty kitchen. He pulled down a pan and opened the cupboards, surveying the ingredients, when a soft footstep and a familiar scent told him he was no longer alone.

A gentle hand landed on his back. “I was thinking Mexican tonight.”

Dan didn’t turn. He didn’t speak. He just started pulling out ingredients.

They cooked together for the first time in far too long, and thought it was a little awkward, Phil’s constant smile and occasional brushes to Dan’s arm, or shoulder, or hip, let him know that he wasn’t completely alone. Dan, for his part, tried for a smile.

They ate together in front of Buffy - an old favourite they didn’t have to think about - and Phil waxed lyrical about his love for Sarah Michelle Gellar. Dan would ordinarily be making snide remarks about how maybe he should get surgery, or dye his hair blonde, or something if he wanted to keep Phil’s attention, but he couldn’t bring himself up to that level yet. He simply sat and enjoyed Phil’s presence, carefully. Phil was far too good for him.

They marathoned well into the night, until Phil was yawning and his eyes were hardly open.

Dan shut off the TV after the next episode ended. He surveyed Phil sternly. “You should go to bed.”

Phil’s only answer was a giant yawn.

Dan smiled despite himself, and he pulled himself upright. “C’mon, ya great lump.”

“You come too?”

Dan paused. Phil’s voice was small, heavy with sleep, but his words were clear. “Come back to bed, Dan.”

Dan swallowed. He twisted away. “I … I can’t.”

Phil’s eyes narrowed, his voice growing in strength. “Why?”

“I just can’t.” Dan closed his eyes. “Every time - if we get too close, the audience is going to notice.”

Phil was silent for a long moment before he spoke quietly. “There are no cameras in our bedroom, Dan.”

Dan didn’t miss the switch back to our. It was an open invitation; that Dan could go back if he wanted to, that this next step was all on Dan. Phil’s position was perfectly clear.

And it always had been, hadn’t it? Dan was the one constantly floundering in uncertainty.

Dan hardened his heart, straightened his back, and spoke to the spot over Phil’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go get some sleep. Um, in my room. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Phil’s expression dropped - he must be too tired to hide his emotions behind his usual mask - and Dan felt his chest twist. “Why?”

“I told you,” Dan answered roughly.

“No, you haven’t. You’ve done very little talking through this whole…” Phil flapped his hand vaguely, “…thing.”

Dan closed his eyes. “I don’t know how to talk about it.”

“Try?” Phil’s voice was full of hope. “For me? Please?”

Dan swallowed hard. That wasn’t fair - how could Phil still tug on his emotions like that?

He turned a little, facing away from Phil, and gathered up his remaining courage. “I just … it’s like I said. Every time we get close. They’re going to know.”

“No one can see us in here, Dan.”

“But it shows through,” Dan shot back, tone sharp. “You know it. I know it. It’s plain in our videos - they can tell when we’re closer than we should be.”

Phil nibbled on his lip. “They don’t know anything for certain.”

“I don’t want them to know anything at all.”

Phil held the silence for a moment, studying Dan, before he gave a short nod. “So you don’t want to be close to me anymore?”

“No, that’s not…” Dan paused, his chest aching. He made a helpless gesture. “What I want doesn’t even matter. This is how things have to be.”

Phil kept studying him. “I disagree.”

“Of course you do.” Dan brushed a hand over his face. “Whatever. Right. I’m going to bed.”

Phil stepped aside, letting him pass, though he brushed his fingers just once against Dan’s arms.

Dan didn’t look back.

…

That night, again at around 2am, Dan’s phone buzzed with another text.

Phil Lester: Tonight I want to show you a song. Maybe it’ll help you see what I think. [insert link]

Despite himself, Dan’s interest was piqued. He rolled to his bedside drawer, fished out his headphones, clicked them into place, and clicked on the link.

Instantly, the lyrics connected with him.

Never let the darkness hold you back, no fear of getting lost. I wanna see you fly, way beyond the sun, and anything you ever dream, I pray that it will come.

Dan could feel a lump tickling the back of his throat. The song went on, itching away at his ears, echoing in his skull. He closed his eyes, imagined Phil speaking the words in his ear, whispering their intent directly into his mind.

Any place, any time, you gotta know, for you I’ll fight.

Did Phil want to fight for him? To stop him from drifting, despite everything, despite how cruel and distant Dan had been? Impossible, surely. Phil was far too good for Dan.

I wish that I could make the road easy, I wish that life was fair.

Now that, Dan could easily imagine Phil saying. He always bore the brunt of the load, shielding Dan from what he could. Dan had absolutely no doubt in his mind that Phil would open every door for Dan if he possibly could.

But if you ever fall down straight to the bottom and you can’t get back where you started, with no strength to stand, gonna reach for your hand.

Dan shivered. Phil reaching out for him once again. Phil was always reaching out for him - always doing his best to be there for Dan, to leave Dan with no doubt that he wasn’t alone.

And what had Dan done? Push him away.

When the going gets rough, right when it’s hurting, I will be there to help any burden.

Phil was hardly being subtle in this message. He’d be there for Dan. He’d always be there for Dan.

All Dan had to do was believe that.

It didn’t matter what the rest of the world thought. It didn’t matter what they thought they knew, what they read into actions, how they reacted. All that mattered was Phil, smiling and happy by Dan’s side, lighting up every room, happy and fulfilled and warm and lovely.

For you I’ll fight.

The song slid to an end, and Dan was moving before he overthought everything again. He pulled his headphones out, abandoning his phone, and headed straight to Phil’s door. It was open, so he went straight in.

Phil turned to face him, bleary-eyed but awake, sitting up in surprise. “Oh, hi -”

“I’ll fight for you too,” Dan blurted out raspily.

Phil’s eyes widened.

“I always will.” Dan’s tone was fierce. “Whatever - whatever anyone says, or thinks, or - or just whatever, I’ll always fight for you. Always.”

Phil stared, just stared for the longest moment before his face broke out into Dan’s favourite beaming smile.

Dan lifted a finger. “Not done yet. I’m sorry. I’m cruel and distant and you could do so much better -”

“Dan.”

“No, shut up for a second, because despite all that I’ll still fight for you.” Dan licked his lips. “And if anyone even thinks about using this against you, I’m going to snap their bones.”

Phil laughed, the sound the lightest their flat had heard since it happened. “Watch out, everyone, I hear Dan killed a wolf with his bare hands.”

Dan’s lips twitched as he surveyed Phil. “Thank you.”

Phil just smiled back at him, and opened his arms.

Dan clambered into them, closing his eyes, leaning against Phil and properly feeling him for the first time in far too long. He lowered his defenses, curling into Phil’s frame, holding him tight in return.

They clambered under the covers, and Dan’s chest ached, because of course this was where he belonged. It didn’t matter what anyone else saw, or knew.

All that mattered was Phil beside him.

And when Dan woke the next morning, and was greeted with Phil’s closed eyes and ruffled hair, his face pressed tight into Dan’s chest, he didn’t stop the smile from stretching his lips wide.


End file.
